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Dee Dee Myers: Disillusioned Clintonista Tries on Obama

Monday morning, as I was dropping my children off at school a little late, I ran into my friend Robin, who was arranging to pick up her children a little early. Barack Obama was speaking barely a mile away at American University, and Robin was going to take her kids to what promised to be an historic event: Ted Kennedy and his niece, Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg, would be endorsing Obama at the rally—the laying on of Kennedy hands; the passing of the proverbial torch.

Dressed in my running clothes, I had planned to attend a meeting about the school auction, take a run, then catch up with a friend for a long-delayed quasi-business lunch. I decided to change my plans. As an uncommitted Democrat, I had been following the primaries with intense interest. As a former Clinton staffer—and a woman—I had found myself rooting for Hillary.

But events surrounding the contest in South Carolina had left me disappointed, almost disgusted, with the whole Clinton thing. Over the years, I had seen my former boss, Bill, in a variety of incarnations, from upstart challenger to elder statesman. I'd repeatedly seen him lose his equilibrium, only to regain it and then some. I'd seen him lift people up, and leave them profoundly disappointed.But the one thing I never thought I'd see him do was play the race card. So for weeks, I defended Bill and Hillary Clinton against charges they were doing just that. Yes, many of their attacks were out of bounds. (Obama was consistent in his opposition to the war in Iraq and his support of a woman's right to choose, no matter what the Clintons claimed.) But the Clintons weren't intentionally using race to divide the electorate and advance Hillary's candidacy, I argued. Then came Bill's comments comparing Obama's South Carolina victory to Jesse Jackson's in 1984 and 1988. If the former president was just trying to make the case that the winner of the South Carolina primary doesn't always win the Democratic nomination, heck, why not cite John Edwards? After all, he won in the Palmetto state four years ago, only to lose the nomination. I felt duped.

So I decided to go and see what the Obama thing was all about. I hadn't been to a campaign rally as a civilian in 20 years. I'd always had a staff pin, a VIP pass, or a press credential. This time, I wanted to see how it felt up in the bleachers. I was really excited as I drove toward campus, wondering if I was coming late to the party, if the thousands of people who would be at the rally had figured it out before me. I found my friend Robin and her kids in the line that snaked for what seemed like a mile, and we easily made it into the arena before it filled up and was shut down. After about an hour, Obama and his Kennedy-clan entourage appeared, and the mostly twentysomething crowd went nuts. Teddy Kennedy's speech was half again too long, but he energized a crowd that was mostly too young to remember "The dream will never die." Still, Kennedy's ageless passion synced with their youthful idealism, and the crowd was "fired up, ready to go" when it was Obama's turn to speak.

And the candidate? He didn't quite … get there. He said most of the right things, but as he spoke, a crowd that had been on its feet started to sit down. I wanted to be swept away, but Obama appealed to my head, not to my heart. I was disappointed. We Democrats are lucky to have two strong candidates for president. But, as of today, we don't have a perfect candidate.